


idfc

by icyvanity



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Break Up, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7118932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icyvanity/pseuds/icyvanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrew and Neil break up in the wake of Aaron's trial, and neither are handling it well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	idfc

**Author's Note:**

> #22: things you said after it was all over (prompted by anonymous)
> 
> (title comes from "Idfc" by blackbear)

“He misses you.”

Andrew looked over at Nicky with a glare. His cousin should have known better than have a heart-to-heart with him while he was holding his goalie racquet. Everyone knew he broke Riko Moriyama’s arm with it years before; he was still completely capable of that level of damage.

“So?” Andrew asked. There was only one _he_ where Andrew was concerned, and he specifically remembered their last conversation ending badly; he barely held back his wince at the reminder of what he’d said, how he’d ended things. Damn eidetic memory.

“ _So_ ,” Nicky said, dragging out the word, “don’t you think you should talk to him?”

“And why would I do that?” Andrew asked, chucking balls so hard across the court that they ricocheted off of the opposite wall. “It wasn’t a damn love story.”

“Yes it was. You miss him too.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“ _Come on_ ,” Nicky said, rolling his eyes. “It’s obvious you do. You still love him and he still loves you; I don’t see what the damn problem is."

Andrew’s fingers tightened subconsciously on the stick. They’d stopped kissing, stopped speaking, stopped breathing the same air the night of Aaron’s trial. Aaron had pleaded self-defense, but he’d just barely gotten off. Andrew, Neil, Nicky, and Kevin all had to testify, to recount the events of that night along with him; Andrew had dug his nails so hard into his hands that he’d drawn blood as the words washed over him. _Rape. Drake. Not the first time._

Later, Neil had treated him the same as he would on a normal night—not like Nicky, who acted as though he had to be careful around Andrew, or Kevin, who had stood next to him like a bodyguard and glared down the jurors as they made their decision. Andrew didn’t want to be touched that night; his memories were resurfacing, and it angered him that Neil knew to keep his distance.

“ _I’m tired of this_ ,” he’d said, facing away from Neil like a coward. _At least look him in the eye when you destroy this—destroy_ him _._

Neil had argued with him in their tiny kitchen, standing opposite him—which was merely three feet away—with fists that mirrored Andrew’s own.

“ _I don’t want you to have to pick up the pieces when things like this happen_ ,” Andrew had said, raising his voice for the first time. “ _I don’t like depending on people; it never works out._ ” Neil was left gaping as Andrew walked past him.

His duffel was in the back of their closet, used recently for his trip home from his team. He’d pulled it out and started shoving clothes inside.

“ _Andrew, stop_ ,” Neil had said, stepping between Andrew and the dresser, careful not to touch. “ _What are you doing?_ ”

“ _Don’t ask stupid questions_ ,” Andrew had replied, pushing Neil away. There were things he could get elsewhere, and shut the drawer. Heaving his bag over his shoulder, Andrew had left the room with Neil trailing behind.

“ _Andrew. Andrew, don’t go_ ,” Neil had said; it was the closest he could get to begging. Andrew couldn’t look back—he couldn’t, he knew looking at Neil would change his mind—and he pulled the door shut with a soft click behind him; somehow, that was worse.

Andrew shook his head to clear it of the insufferable memories. He glanced at Nicky; his cousin looked hopeful.

“He’s in town,” Nicky added. Of course he was—their teams were playing each other in the finals, and all of the original foxes had turned up for the game. It was a damn school reunion in the making.

“If I agree, will you go away?” Andrew asked, cutting a glare at him.

Nicky grinned at him. “Yes. Definitely.”

Andrew sighed. “Fine, I’ll do it.

* * *

Neil’s room was on the 4th floor of a fancy hotel downtown that Andrew had never seen before. He hesitated with a fist resting against the door. He had to face Neil eventually.

He knocked.

There was a sound of steps from the other side of the door, fast but unsure steps that echoed in Andrew’s memories. Neil opened the door, and Andrew drank him in. There were the scars, the burns, those infuriatingly bright blue eyes, the armbands Andrew had given him back in college, the loose sweats and bare feet that Andrew knew so well, that he—that _he_ —

Andrew opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find the words. Neil beat him to it.

“Andrew,” he said, quietly, filled with enough of _something_ that it burned through Andrew. His hands gripped the doorframe, leaning forward slightly to stare back at Andrew.

Andrew cleared his throat. “Neil,” he said. Neil’s eyes fell closed, as if he were savoring the sound. “Drama queen,” he muttered.

“That was always you,” Neil said, eyes coming open and crinkling fondly for a moment before he checked himself and forced the look off of his face. “Come in.”

He stepped aside, careful as always to stay out of Andrew’s space as he strode into the room. Neil hadn’t even bothered to unpack, his duffle sitting in the middle of the bed with clothes falling out of it. There was, surprisingly, a box of takeout on the nightstand, and Andrew raised a brow at Neil.

“Don’t tell Kevin,” was all Neil said, settling down onto the bed and picking up the box. He glanced up at Andrew. “Nicky said you wanted to talk?”

“I was coerced,” Andrew huffed and Neil rolled his eyes. Andrew sat down next to him on the bed, reaching over to snag a fry.

There was a comfortable silence between them that neither hurried to fill; it was as though they had gone months back in time and this was just part of their routine. There were tangible inches between them, and Andrew wanted to scream.

Instead he said, “Nicky said you missed me.”

Neil flushed, but a frown tugged at his lips. “He told me you missed _me_.”

Andrew waved a hand between them. “Nicky is nothing if not a liar. Either way, you’re nothing to me.”

Neil dropped the fry he was holding right onto the bed. Andrew realized too late how that sounded— _nothing_. It was a knee-jerk reaction, but Andrew knew he still felt the same about Neil as he did the last time he said it.

Neil took a deep breath. “Yes or no?”

Andrew looked at him; his eyes were blown wide, one hand still frozen between them where he had dropped the fry. Andrew wanted this so much. “Yes,” Andrew said.

Neil kissed him. Andrew kissed back. The fries were forgotten, hands tangled in the sheets to stay away. Neil knew these things about Andrew—that consent was everything, that he didn’t like to be touched. It reminded Andrew of the day he ended things, pulling him out of his Neil-induced haze long enough to realize this was why; no one should have to remember those things, to fear being lashed out at for an accidental brush of fingers or a nightmare brought into the waking world.

He broke away, stumbling off of the bed.

“Andrew—”

Andrew was panting, fingers flexing subconsciously as he looked at Neil and then anywhere else. “I can’t do this,” he spit out.

“What did I do?” Neil’s voice was so sorrowful that Andrew was tempted to look at him again. Neil was ingrained in every part of him—every cell wanted Neil, to be with Neil, but Andrew knew better. Neil had been through hell and back, and he deserved better than to be with a scarred wasteland like Andrew. “Andrew, would you at least look at me?”

“I—I can’t, I—” Andrew stumbled toward the door, wrenching it open and running until he was in a hallway he couldn’t even recognize it.

_You’re not worth it._

_He deserves better._

_Fuck you_ , Andrew thought back to himself, gripping the sides of his head as though he could crush the thoughts from his mind; he couldn’t. Even someone as broken as Neil couldn’t want this forever.

**Author's Note:**

> [read on tumblr](http://lady-gryffindor.tumblr.com/post/145534812828/22-andriel-thingy)


End file.
